Page 103 of Blindside Me
I check my phone again. Still blank. My stomach knots. It’s a familiar feeling.Toofamiliar. Like waiting for my mom to come home. Like watching my uncle vanish into his coaching career without a backward glance. Like knowing, deep down, that people say forever when they really mean until it gets hard.
I text him:
Me: You alive?
Three dots don’t appear. The message just sits there, delivered but unread.
So I try again. Something softer. Riskier.
Me: You don’t have to protect me, you know. I’m not going anywhere.
I stare at it for a beat before hitting send. A tiny offering to let him know I care.
Still nothing.
My chest tightens as Roman’s words from last night haunt my thoughts.
Unknown Number: Babe, I need to see you. You blame me, but I’m not the one who left.
Me: Fuck off.
Block and delete.
New Unknown Number: The truth is, you were already gone. I made the mistake, yeah, but you’ve got walls no one can climb. I didn’t cheat because I no longer cared. I only cheated because I didn’t think you’d let me in. But I’m here now. I’ll always be there for you even when you want to run.
Block and delete.
New Unknown Number: You’ll push the new guy away, too.
Maybe Roman was right. Maybe this is how it ends. Not with a door slammed shut or a final fight, but with a text that never gets answered.
“Do you think he’s still with Coach Howell and the athletic director?” Callie’s voice drops to a whisper. “Do you think he’ll be suspended?”
A sick weight settles. Suspended. A devastating word that’s detrimental to Drew’s future. A suspension would wreck a guy who lives and breathes hockey.
“There’s a good chance.” My voice is tight. If I had answered Roman’s call, this could have been prevented. If I had used real words instead of telling him to fuck off, he wouldn’t have baited Drew. What if this is my fault?
“Have you heard from him at all?” Callie asks, yanking me out of my spiral.
I shake my head, holding up my phone. “Nothing since…”
“Since he tried to murder Roman Beaulier with his bare hands,” Callie finishes, blunt as ever.
The memory slams into me, sharp and clear.
Twelve minutes into the third period. Cessna University up by one. The ref’s whistle.
Then Roman skated over to me, and I heard his words again, stitched into the crowd’s roar.
“You think he’s different? Give it time. Once he realizes how messed up you are, he’ll bail, too. Just like everyone else.”
The words stuck to my ribs like tar. They weren’t meant for Drew. They were meant for me. A whispered poison meant to linger after the bruises fade.
It happened so fast. One second, Roman’s smirk is all I see. The next, Drew launches himself at my ex, gloves already off, helmet gone. His fist connects with Roman’s jaw with a sickening crack that somehow carries over the crowd.
“Fucking bastard,” Drew’s voice was unrecognizable as teammates from both sides scramble to separate them.
The asshole laughed through his bloody mouth. “She was damaged goods before I got hold of her.”
